A Punch in the Gut
by quintenttsy
Summary: Set in fourth year. Morly likes Ron but he only has eyes for Hermione Granger. Ron/OC.


"Morly, where are you? Morly? Morly! Come on, we were supposed to be at the Yule Ball ages ago!"

Weena Morloch - or, as she was more commonly known, Morly - winced, her best friend Hannah Abbot's cries easily penetrating the wardrobe she was hiding in. She huddled closer against the wall, praying Hannah would just give up and go to the ball without her.

The footsteps receded, and Hannah's voice slowly grew quieter. Morly breathed a sigh of relief and scrambled out of the cupboard.

She froze. There, sitting on the end of her bed, was Hannah, her arms folded and her face stern.

"Hannah," Morly said lamely.

"Morly," Hannah replied, her eyes narrowed. "Do you have a specific reason for hiding in the cupboard or were you just reacquainting yourself with small, dark spaces?"

"I was picking out something to wear, actually," Morly muttered, folding her arms defensively.

Hannah merely raised an eyebrow. Morly was still dressed in the jeans and t-shirt that she was wearing earlier.

"Okay," she confessed, perching on the end of her bed. "I was hiding. I don't want to go to the ball."

"But Morly," Hannah whined, "I can't go on my own. I haven't got a date and I'll look like a right saddo. Besides, it'll be fun."

Morly snorted with derision. "Yeah. Right. I really want to watch a bunch of people who have dates rubbing it in my face. Like that Hermione Granger."

Hannah sighed. "Morly, you have to get over your irrational dislike of that girl. What has she ever done to you?"

"Well, nothing," Morly admitted, "but-"

"So what's wrong with her?" Hannah demanded.

"You mean apart from the fact that she's a pompous, condescending know-it-all?" Morly retorted.

Hannah gave her a look. "Morly, we both know what this is about."

"Do we?" Morly said obstinately.

"Ginger, bit of a loudmouth and goes by the name Ron?" Hannah said knowingly.

Morly scowled at her. "I knew I shouldn't have told you about the infinitesimal crush I had on him in first year. I'm over it, believe me."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Right. Say that like you remotely believe it. And besides, Ron and Hermione aren't even going together."

Morly perked up. "They're not?"

"Yeah, she's going with that Durmstrang boy, Viktor, I think." Hannah gave her friend a sidelong glance. "Thought you didn't care."

"I don't," Morly responded quickly. "I don't care one bit about it."

Hannah muttered something unintelligible under her breath. "Glad we got that sorted. Now are you coming to the ball or not?"

"Yeah," Morly replied reluctantly. "Just let me get my dress robes on."

She disappeared into the wardrobe and emerged ten minutes later, clad in green dress robes to match her eyes, her hair scooped back into a bun.

Hannah looked at her critically. "Aren't you even going to put on some makeup?"

"Hannah, I never wear makeup," Morly retorted. "Now is hardly the time to start."

But as they made their way downstairs to the Great Hall, Morly couldn't help but feel a little worried. Hannah was right; she ought to have at least put on a little mascara or something. How did she expect Ron to notice her looking like-

She froze in the doorway of the Great Hall. Where did that come from? She didn't want to impress Ron. She didn't care about him any more. She hadn't given him a second thought for years. So why did she just think that?

"Morly, come on," Hannah said impatiently, shoving her through the doors.

Morly stumbled forward, flailing around a little to catch her balance. Her cheeks red with embarrassment, she trudged after Hannah, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone.

Suddenly, someone accosted them, a Beauxbatons boy, by the looks of it.

"Hello," he greeted them, in surprisingly good English. "I am Sebastian."

"Hannah," she said immediately, beaming at him. "Nice to meet you."

"Yes, me also," he replied. "Would you like to dance?"

"I'd love to," she said quickly, as if to ensure he had no time to change his mind. She turned to Morly, her face beseeching. "You don't mind, do you Morly?"

"'Course not," she replied resignedly. "Why would I mind? Go, have fun. At least one of us will."

Hannah's grin threatened to split her face as she walked away with Sebastian, mouthing a thank you. Sighing long-sufferingly, Morly made her way over to one of the tables and collapsed into a chair.

"Don't call him Vicky!"

Morly's head whipped round just in time to see Hermione storming off. Her eyes widened as she realised she was sitting next to Ron and Harry. She ducked down, trying not to be noticed, but it was too late.

"Weena, isn't it?" Harry said, smiling a little at her.

"Actually, I go by Morly," she muttered, suddenly shy.

"Morly, right," he said. "I'm-"

"Harry Potter, I know," she said quickly.

"And I'm Ron Weasley, best friend of Harry Potter, not that anyone cares," Ron muttered, clearly disgruntled.

"I knew that too," Morly retorted.

Ron looked at her momentarily and her heart skipped a beat. He really was quite good-looking, with all that wavy, ginger hair, grey-blue eyes and those freckles-

But then he looked away and she blushed, realising she was being stupid. Even if she did fancy Ron - not that she did, obviously - there wasn't the slightest chance he'd ever like her back. The whole year practically knew he had it bad for that Granger girl. Morly felt a stab of jealousy, but pushed it away quickly before she'd have to confront it.

"I'm going to go for a walk," Harry ventured. "Either of you want to come?"

Ron merely grunted, his gaze fixed on a point across the room - Hermione, presumably.

"No thanks," Morly murmured, grateful for the thought nonetheless.

With a supportive smile, as if he knew what was going through her mind, Harry headed off.

"What does she see in him?" Ron grumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

"You mean Hermione and Krum?" Morly guessed. She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe the fact that he's good-looking, a world-famous Quidditch player, charming, has his own fan club-"

"Okay, okay," he muttered. "No need to rub it in."

"You asked."

They sat in silence for a few seconds, but then Ron turned to her.

"So how do you know me, anyway?" he asked, curious. "Apart from as the great Potter's sidekick, obviously."

"You're in my Charms class," she informed him. There was no flicker of recognition in his eye. Her heart sank. "You mean you never noticed?"

"Nope," he replied. "Sorry," he added, but it felt like it was just sort of added on to the end.

"It's okay," she said resignedly. "I'm not exactly the most memorable person in the world."

He offered her a smile. "Me neither. Which is why I get stuck as Harry Potter's lackey."

She smiled back. "I never thought of you like that."

He looked at her sceptically. "Really?"

"Yeah," she said honestly. "I mean, he's a nice enough guy, and don't tell him I said this, but he seems a bit up himself, to be honest."

Ron's grin grew. "I like you, Morly. You seem pretty cool."

She blushed, and instantly wished she hadn't tied her hair back so she could hide behind it. "Um, you too, I guess," she mumbled.

But he wasn't listening any more. He was on his feet, his eyes narrowed and his hands balled into fists at his sides. Morly followed his hard, intent gaze across the room to where a flustered-looking Hermione was being kissed by Krum.

"Oh," Morly said lamely. "Ron-"

But by the time she'd turned back to him, he was already stomping out of the room, probably to find Harry. Morly sighed, burying her head in her hands. She cursed herself for being so stupid; she wished that she'd managed to swing the conversation round to a point where Ron could have asked her out - or the other way round. She wasn't too fussed at the moment.

"Oh, Morly," Hannah sighed, appearing from nowhere into the seat next to her. "You never really got over him did you?"

Morly lifted her head up momentarily to smile weakly at her best friend. "It was just a stupid crush, Hannah. I'm fine."

But both of them knew the truth was far from it.

"Did you have fun with Sebastian?" Morly asked, a touch desperately, before Hannah could press the subject.

"Yeah," she replied enthusiastically. "He's a great dancer, and really nice." Hannah gave her another one of her looks. "He has a friend, you know. Alonso."

Morly attempted a smile. "Thanks, Hannah, but I think I'm just going to go back to the dorm."

"You sure?" Morly nodded. "I'll come with you."

"No, it's fine," Morly said quickly. "I don't want to ruin your night. You have fun with Sebastian."

"If you're sure," Hannah said uncertainly, and Morly could've sworn she looked almost relieved.

Pushing away her resentment, she pasted on the brightest smile she could muster. "Yeah, I am. Go on, have fun."

Hannah hugged her quickly before hurrying back to where an impatient Sebastian was waiting. Morly turned away, unwilling to face all the happy couples around her when she was feeling so miserable. She got to her feet and slipped out of the Great Hall, unnoticed, and headed up to the Hufflepuff common room.

"Petrificus Nimblethorn," she told the portrait, which promptly swung open.

With a sigh, she walked in and traipsed up the girls' staircase. She discarded her dress in the wardrobe and pulled her dishwater blonde hair out of the bun, shaking it out over her shoulders.

From here, she could still hear the ball in full swing downstairs. She sighed again and crawled into bed, unwilling to do much less.

He's not worth it, she told herself. He's not worth it.

But no matter how much she repeated the mantra, it didn't stop the tears from falling.


End file.
